


Devil's Bargain

by Ikol



Category: Crimson Peak (2015), CrimsonHeart, In The Heart of the Sea, hiddlesworth - Fandom
Genre: Hand Kink, M/M, Size Kink, sex bargain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:52:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5343059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ikol/pseuds/Ikol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas had expected to meet the man. He hadn’t expected him to be this young, being a famed captain, this tall, handsome and cruel. </p><p> </p><p>Owen grinned. “I think we can arrange something.” Thomas almost recoiled when the large hand touched his cheek, the knuckles caressing his skin. “I want to see how you beg, Sir Sharpe.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is pure imagination and meant no disrespect to the actual historical figure. I merely borrowed the characters and wrote this out of love <3

This was written based on this [prompt](http://ikol-liesmith.tumblr.com/post/133537276939/singleloki-ikol-liesmith-sir-thomas-sharpe).

\-------

 

  
The hall was bustling with people as a tall, lean gentleman, dressed in black, walked towards the clerk desk. The new-comer who was wearing a top hat, making his stature taller, drew some eyes from the ladies working in the room. He stopped at the desk, his suitcase making a heavy thud against the floor.

“Good morning. I have a meeting with Mr. Chase,” the man said with an unblemished British accent, his voice smooth and pleasant. He pulled out a name card and placed it on the desk.

The man at the desk was typing at the type-writer clumsily using only the index fingers. He stopped and looked at the long, white fingers, then looked up. The intense blue eyes were nothing the other man had never seen before, and the scowl on that face made the guest frown.

“Sir Thomas Sharpe, Baronet.” The man read.

“Yes.” the man answered enthusiastically, sounding a little out of breath. “Would you be so kind to take this suitcase? I believe that the meeting shall begin soon.”

The man’s eyes flashed something, but after a moment, he rose to his feet and he stood a few inches taller than Sir Sharpe.

“All right, Sir.” He walked around the desk, and bent down to pick up the heavy suitcase, his arm brushed past the man in black’s torso and made him stumbled backward. He frowned at how unmannerly the man was. The blonde was lifting his suitcase up as if it weighted nothing.

“Follow me,” he said and started walking.

Thomas wondered if this was the manners of servants in America, but he had just arrived the other day and had no way to know. If he could secure a funding, of course, he would have time to find out later.

**

It was still 30 minutes before the presentation started. When they reached the luxurious office upstairs, the blonde pushed the door open, leading the other man into a spacious, spherical room surrounded by tables. He slammed the suitcase on the table and Thomas nearly yelled at him.

“Careful!” He placed his hands protectively on the suitcase. “This machine is very expensive and of much value!”

“Sorry, sir,” the man said and there was an insolent tone in it. Thomas’ frown deepened. This man obviously had no experience in service, or perhaps was uneducated. He had to keep calm.

As if reading his mind, the blonde man said, “Please forgive my clumsiness. I am no acquaintance of giving a ‘service’.”

“That would be all right,” he said sternly to imply otherwise. “Is there a table I can put my work on?”

He was sure it was a glare he received, but the blonde shrugged and disappeared out of the door before returning with a table a few moments later. He dumped it on the floor. Without the carpet, the legs of the table could have left the dents in the expensive wood, Thomas was certain.

He thought it was time to dismiss the servant. “That’s all for now.” The British said. “Thank you for your service.”

“Then I shall take my leave,” the man bowed, his blue eyes flashed at Thomas again as he left.

Thomas shook his head and turned to open the suitcase and set up his proud invention. Luckily, the careless handling of that servant hadn’t left any scratch to his tool, because it was the only one model he had and guarded with his life while carrying it across the ocean to the New World.

Soon, he would show the world how great his machination was.

**

He was informed that Mr. Chase was to be late due to another business matter, but he should attend the meeting. Thomas was disappointed, because even if there were many associates in the room, they weren’t the man he had come here in hope to meet. Still, he would do his best to impress the rest of the meeting body.

He learned to be an artist while presenting his work, using the kind of voice he had learned from his Drama class and the choirs. Still, the men’s impassive faces were making him nervous. There were men whose hair only began to gray to those old vultures Thomas learned to recognized well, but he didn’t know if their impassive reaction stemmed from the flaws of his invention, because he couldn’t understand why they didn’t share his excitement when some of them were younger than the men in power back in England. He felt his heart sink a little, but he trudged on. This was his first attempt in America, and he was uncertain how these people were, but he would give his best.

After a few minutes, the blonde servant reappeared at the door. Thomas’ eyes darted at the tall, intimidating figure and wondered what the servant was doing here. Was his time up already that the man had come to dispose of his work and him?

The man crossed his arms over his chest and leant against the wall, staring at Thomas with questioning eyes. His manner was very out of sort, Thomas thought, but he pulled his attention back to the presentation.

“This machine will tirelessly dig up the soil and it requires only a few men to operate it.” He pulled the red bottle filled with red clay, placed it on his and turned to show it like a magician to the audience. “Like this red clay from my land. If you invest—“

“You said ‘tirelessly’,” the blonde spoke up, drawing all eyes in the room to him. “What if it breaks down?”

“Please do not interrupt my speech,” Thomas snapped, having enough of the man’s impudent behavior.

A murmur erupted in the room and the men exchanged glances.

The man laughed. “Well, I thought that you have travelled all the way here to show me something.”

Perplexed, Thomas turned towards Mr. Doyle, the most senior man in the room. “Sir, would you please tell this servant to leave?”

“But Sir Shape,” the gray-haired man said, his brows knitted. “That is Mr. Chase, not a servant.”

**  
Thomas knew he was gaping idiotically.

“I—My apology!” He cried out, spinning to face the man.

The blonde waved his hand. “I wasn’t impressed that you arrived here without any knowledge of me.”

“I—Sir, please accept my sincere apology!” Thomas said. “I have heard that you were young, a man who made himself fame and fortune from the seas. But I hadn’t expect you to be this young.”

“Save your flattery, Sir Sharpe.” Owen Chase walked towards the middle of the room and stopped in front of Thomas. The dark-haired man was startled when the other man took his hand in a much stronger one. Their eyes met.

“I have traveled in low and high seas, survived the biggest storms, the most terrifying waves and the deadliest monster of the sea. I have witnessed death and beaten a thing of legend, so don’t give me a fantasy that doesn’t have a place in real life.” The grip on Thomas’ hand tightened. “I have built my life from the dirt. You can feel how coarse my hand is. But your hand, my good sir, is the softest hand I’ve ever touched.”

A squeeze made Thomas winced while the men in the room chuckled and laughed at Owen Chase’s mockery.

“How can I trust a man with hands like this?” Owen said and Thomas pulled away his hand, and grimaced as pain shot through his pinky and ring fingers.

“Sir, I have put my life into my work, and even if I don’t appear as hardy as you are, I have spent countless days and nights and all my fortune building and testing this machine! I have come to America with all I had left, so please give me a chance to show—“

“Enough.” Owen snarled. “You are wasting my time.”

As the congregation dispersed, Thomas was turning left and right, losing his composure after being rejected and dismissed harshly.

“Wait!” He hurried after Owen who was heading towards the door. “Mr. Chase!”

Owen stopped when the man grasped his forearm. Those long, thin fingers couldn’t even wrap around his bicep. He gave the man a side-way glance but not turning to face him.

“Please, I am truly sorry, sir. I was stupid to not knowing how you looked like, but I just set foot at the port the other night, and I did not have time to get myself acquainted with the city’s prominent people.”

“I told you that sweet-talking doesn’t work, Sir Sharpe.” Owen sneered. “Perhaps I could give you an advice.” He pulled his arm away and turned to face the smaller man. “One thing that you could benefit from is learning to talk real, and cut the fantasy.”

Thomas was taken aback by the harsh words. Why did Owen Chase say things as if he hated him, or was fuming at him? What had he ever done to the other man to deserve this treatment?

“I truly am sorry for my earlier behavior. I should have asked. I thought you were a butler…” Thomas swallowed down his pride and tried to apologize as sincerely as possible. 

  
“Because you saw me at the desk? I was learning how to type.” 

 

“That was such a stupid mistake, but I beg that you do not judge my work because of my ignorance.”

 

He felt uncomfortable under the blonde’ gaze, because those eyes were like the ocean, unfathomable and temperamental.  He only heard of Owen Chase as a risk taker and the man who made his fortune after surviving the deadliest sea-voyage in history. He had thought this man to be a great, apt target, with all the wealth he had earned.

He hadn’t expected the man to be this young, being a famed captain, this tall, handsome and cruel.

“You’ll beg?” Owen asked, his face lightened up.

Thomas gulped. “I could explain further how my machine works.” An alarm was sending a warning deep in his guts. “If you would be so kind to grant me another meeting, then perhaps you would see that this is not a complete waste of your time.”

Owen grinned. “I think we can arrange something.” Thomas almost recoiled when the large hand touched his cheek, the knuckles caressing his skin. “I want to see how you beg, Sir Sharpe.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Touch me,” Owen whispered. “Make me spill in your hand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after watching ITHOTS, I changed the title to 'Devil's Bargain'. The original title (as posted on tumblr) was 'It Takes Two To Make a Bargain', and I think the term from ITHOTS fits perfectly. 
> 
> *SPOILER*
> 
> Besides, I'm so happy to see that my characterization of Mr. Owen Chase wasn't that off the mark. I was surprised to see the antagonism!

As soon as he had left the Guild’s building, Thomas returned to his hotel to drop his belongings before inquiring the library's location and hurrying off. He asked for all the materials on Owen Chase, and spent the rest of the day reading all of the accounts.

Chase had told him that he would send a carriage for him at the hotel tomorrow’s evening, and then they would discuss further from where they left off today. 

Thomas only stopped reading when his stomach burned from hunger and he couldn’t deny himself a proper meal any longer. He didn’t have much money left, and if he couldn’t get Chase, then he would get nothing at all.

**

It rained heavily and the carriage ran through the gate towards the house. Once the carriage stopped, Thomas stepped off when an old man came to receive him with an umbrella. The large door of Chase House opened to the warmly lit interior, and everything looked like golden amber. It was welcoming more than the house owner did.

Once he left the coat on the rack, the man led him into the house, upstairs, then into a reading room with a lone golden teak working desk and a book shelf, then left him alone. When Thomas approached the desk, he saw that the top was made of a clear glass, with a world map underneath. He couldn’t help but placing his hand on the desk, and bent down to take a closer look of the intricate work. The map looked to be an antique, hand-written, a collectible item of great value. It was a nod to the man's great accomplishment, the ones that had bought the man this big 

He cocked his head seeing another piece of paper on the desk next to the standing fountain pen. There was a stone on it, but the scroll was open enough for him to catch a glimpse of what was on it—a painting. He rolled it open further with his finger, and the picture on it made his eyes widen.

It was a peculiar drawing of two men in a lewd postures. The man on the top had his hand on the other man’s genitals, while his own was inserted half way into the other man’s anus. The man on the bottom was looking up at the man on top of him, his lips formed in a tiny ‘o’ that one could imagine that he was moaning. The man on the top was drawn with a determined look on his face, how he appeared almost scowling from an intense pleasure. It reminded him of the Greek art he had seen at the university’s library, but that was in black and white, not colorful and lifelike like this. He looked at their genitals again, and was transfixed how realistic it looked--the reddened tip that appeared from the larger man’s hand made him see how it was being touched, and from where they were connected allowed him to see how thick the man on top was, though half buried inside his lover.

Thomas felt his face burn and pulled his fingers away. He backed away from the desk and turned around, and nearly had a heart-attack to see Owen Chase standing at the door.

“Mr. Chase!”

“Found something interesting?” Owen asked with a wicked smile and walked up to Thomas. The dark-haired man took steps back and hit the desk.

“You startled me.” He said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“It’s all right.” The blonde’s smile was taunting as he glanced towards the scroll. “It’s a curious art, isn’t it? It’s called Shunga and made by the Japanese.”

“I see that you have an impressive collection.” Thomas offered and when Owen ignored him by perching up the desk, he knew that the other man was indifferent to small talks.

Owen sat down on the desk, facing Thomas and parting his legs. Dressing only in his shirt and vest, without the jacket now, Thomas could see clearly how robust the man was, his muscular form making him look even bigger.

“So, you have me all to yourself now. It is a rare treat, Sir Sharpe, I suggest you use your time wisely.” Owen said, raking his eyes up and down Thomas.  
  
The man was dressed in the same black dress as yesterday, so as the shoes—a pair of worn black leather that had seen better days, and they must have been an expensive ones. Whatever wealth the English man might have had, it was history.

“Where’s your toy?” Owen asked.

Thomas didn’t miss the mockery and anger flared inside him as the man insulted his work, yet again.

“I thought that it was not something that you are interested in,” Thomas answered flatly.

The corner of Owen’s lip twitched into a grin. “So, I assumed we are passed the pointless pleasantry. Good”

“You value your time. So do I.” 

“I started to think that I am getting to know you better,” Owen smirked. “You came here all poise and proud, but let me remind you again, Sir Sharpe, that you still owe me a proper apology.”

Thomas gritted his teeth, his fingers curled into a fist. This man was nothing like he had ever experienced. He was not a fool to not know what this man was demanding. He had experienced it when people, men and women, secretly lusted after him. But none of them had tried so hard to humiliate him.

Owen Chase was acting as if he was merely a toy, as if he was taking a revenge on Thomas and it made him wonder why.

“What must I do to make you forgive me?” Thomas asked as patient as he could, dropping his voice into a vulnerable whisper and fixed his gaze on the dark blue eyes in the dim light.

Owen’s smile dropped and if Thomas wasn’t mistaken, he saw how the man’s Adam’s Apple moved as he swallowed.

So, the hardened Mr. Chase had a soft spot, after all? Thomas was feeling more confident and took a step closer to the sitting Owen. Up close, he had to admit that the man was undeniably handsome. He had the bluest eyes as if God had painted the sky in them, and the full, sensual lips. Even the long scar on his left cheek adorned itself on his features like a medal rather than a blemish. The weathered lines on his face and the scowl gave him the magnetic intensity and edge.  
  


“I am really sorry, Mr. Chase.” Thomas whispered and stopped only when he was between those strong thighs, close enough that his breath ghosted on the man’s face as he spoke. “I beg for your forgiveness.”

Owen turned his face and inhaled deeply, taking in the aristocrat' scent. The smaller man smelled sweet and clean, and he dressed neatly despite the well-worn conditions of his clothes. He took great care of himself, and Owen wanted to see what was underneath.

“I want to see you beg.” Owen rumbled. “Beg for my forgiveness, and my money, like you’ve done before.”

Thomas’ face darkened as he glared at the blonde. His face that had been nothing but angelic from the moment he had set foot into the Guild’s Hall, or how open, sincere and enthusiastic as he was presenting his machine, all dropped as if a mask had slipped—shattered.

“Ah…that’s the first real emotion I saw from you.” Owen smiled. “That’s better.”

“How did you find out?” Thomas asked, voice hard.

“You are too handsome for one to forget easily, Sir Sharpe.” Owen said, fixing his eyes on the other man’s glare. “There were people who had visited and spent time in Europe who have heard about you.”

Thomas lifted his chin defiantly, lips pressed into a thin line. He wondered how much this man knew, but now that things were out in the open…

“What do you want?”

Owen took the pale hand in his, seeing how his tanned hand covered Thomas' milky one, feeling how soft and smooth it was comparing to his own rough one, hardened by the works on the ships. The smaller man stiffened, and it was because his fingers remained hurt for nearly half an hour after he had left the hall yesterday. But he didn’t pull back.

The blonde held Thomas’ soft palm in his hand, running his thumb over the pink knuckles in circular motions, musing how delicate they seemed. He then slid his thumb up along the back of the white hand, touching the velvety skin. Not even the hand of the purest maidens had excited him like this. He felt himself stir and he slid further until his thumb disappeared under the man’s cuff, touching the softest spot on the heel of Thomas' hand.

 

He _pressed_ down at the slightest dip on that wrist where the pulse beat and heard a sharp intake of breath.

 

Owen brought his eyes up to meet Thomas’.

 

He took hold of the thin, bony wrist, feeling how fragile it was, never taking his eyes off the green ones as he pulled down the sleeve. He caressed up and down, hearing how Thomas' breathing changed.

 

Slowly, he led Thomas’ hand towards his body, watching how the thick fan of dark lashes fluttered when he placed it on top of the bulge of his trousers.

 

“Touch me,” Owen whispered. “Make me spill in your hand.”

 

Thomas felt as if he was burned, but no, he couldn’t pull away.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More tags might be added once I continue, but I think I should give you a semi-warning that there might be ropes involved in the next chapter(s).

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not a native writer, so please forgive the mistakes, inaccuracies in tones and languages (British or Aussie or American) and the etiquette of the 19th century, because I only watched a few movies. The only thing about the 19th century literature I was familiar with from a literature class was how they used run-on sentences. The only social feature I know was Jack the Ripper, so I apologize to any sleuths of that period. This is mainly a pwp. So please enjoy!
> 
> If anyone wants to give this baby a beta, hit me up! :) I wanted to post this before going to see ITHOTS because if the character happened to be way ooc, then I might be too chicken to post it.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Any kudos and comments will be appreciated!


End file.
